


One and the Same

by frozenCinders



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, conflicted feelings, like it's in almost every paragraph marik narrates, the thiefshipping is in the past but extremely relevant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24576709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: When a stranger from 3,000 years in the past inexplicably occupies Ryou's home, he has to call Marik to act as a translator for him. Marik expected visiting Ryou to hurt, knowing full well that the spirit of the Ring is gone forever, but he didn't expect the stranger's familiar mannerisms to cause him such a crisis.
Relationships: Thief King Bakura/Marik Ishtar, Yami Bakura/Marik Ishtar
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

Three months. It's been three whole months of Ryou patting at his chest expecting the Ring to be there, of reaching for his neck before a shower to take it off, of waking up not knowing where it is and searching frantically in a half-conscious daze. Three months of Ryou having complete control of his body, complete silence in his apartment. There's an emptiness in his soul, like he was always supposed to have room for another. The spirit wasn't... _good,_ by any means, but Ryou wanted to keep him. He couldn't explain it.

But he's gone. He's moved on like he was supposed to three thousand years ago, and Ryou won't see him nor the Ring he was bound to ever again. The spirit can finally rest, and Ryou should be glad for it, but he just feels... bad. In a way, it was essentially his best friend.

It's been a long, boring day, and Ryou trudges into his room without turning on a single light in the house. He lets his bag fall carelessly to the floor and doesn't even bother taking his school uniform off before walking to the bed so he can pass out.

When Ryou tries to lift the comforter, though, he finds it weighed down by something. His eyes are not adjusted enough to the darkness to detect anything, so he flicks the light on and screams when he sees a stranger curled up on his bed. The shock has him falling over backwards, and he braces himself with a hand over his mouth as the figure quickly rises, looking around for the source of the noise.

Ryou expects the figure's eyes to fall on him immediately, but he takes his time looking around the room. For some reason, the ceiling fan in particular seems to fascinate him, and he climbs out of bed while he's staring at it.

"Um--!" Ryou squeaks in an attempt to prevent the stranger from tripping over him. Lavender eyes are suddenly on him, the proud owner stumbling back to sit on the bed again to avoid him.

"Who... who are you? What are you doing in my house?" Ryou asks hesitantly, hoping with all his heart that this man is just a harmless vagabond who needed a place to sleep for a night.

The stranger squints at him in apparent confusion.

"Um... this is my house," Ryou repeats, finally gathering himself to rise to his feet. "Did you... need something? I don't mind letting you stay for a while..."

The stranger's hand comes up to his temple, a frustrated look crossing his face as he shakes his head and finally opens his mouth...

Ryou cannot understand a word he says.

"Oh, you're foreign..." Ryou notes unhelpfully. He bows his head slightly, an instinctive apology.

The stranger cautiously stands and gives Ryou as wide a berth as he can as he slowly makes for the door.

Ryou didn't recognize a single word of the language he spoke, and he doubts that it's a common language in Domino, or Japan at all. What if he's as lost as he looks and he'll be all alone and overwhelmed outside? Maybe he was somehow teleported here with ancient Egyptian magic or something, since--

Ryou gasps, realizing that the usual suspect probably _is_ responsible for this. He runs after the stranger, startling him immensely and making him fall into a defensive stance as he backs away from Ryou.

"Oh, please just wait! I'm not trying to scare you!"

Not knowing what else to do, Ryou pulls out his phone and silently thanks the missing spirit for getting Marik's number. He calls him, waiting anxiously for it to connect.

When Marik picks up, his voice is riddled with disbelief until Ryou speaks.

"Oh-- no, right, of course. What was I thinking..." he says a little sadly. He must have been expecting the spirit.

Ryou explains the situation as best he can, and Marik goes along with it even as his confusion audibly grows.

"I'm going to try to get him to speak, so please tell me if you can understand him! And, if not... well then, I'm sorry for bothering you," Ryou apologizes in advance.

He puts Marik on speaker and tries to get the stranger's attention. He talks at him, knowing full well he can't understand him, and eventually the stranger frowns and says a few curt words. Marik seems surprised when he hears them.

"That's... a very old form of Egyptian. I only know it because I'm--" Ryou can practically hear the smile in the short sigh he breathes, "I _was_ a tombkeeper. Odds are, nobody in Japan would be able to help him..."

"Oh no..."

"It's alright. If he's been transported here from the ancient past like you think, that must mean the Millennium items still aren't done with us. I'll book a flight."

"Thank you, Marik! I really appreciate the help, but, um... could you also stay on the line, since I can't communicate with him myself?" Ryou asks a little sheepishly, watching as the stranger curiously examines Ryou's Monster World figurines.

"Of course! Just keep me on speaker phone; I don't know if you want someone from potentially 3,000 years in the past touching anything electronic. He'll be unfamiliar with the things we take for granted."

Ryou supposes Marik must know from experience, having spent most of his life locked away from the world, forced to pretend it didn't exist.

"Oh, wait! We've gotten ahead of ourselves-- could you please ask him for his name?" Ryou requests.

Marik's voice gets the stranger's attention, but he doesn't turn around. The way he answers seems bitter and cold.

"Well, that's troublesome..." Marik says, leaving Ryou lost. "He said he wouldn't know."

"Wouldn't know..? So, he doesn't know his name? Is it amnesia?"

Marik and the stranger have a back and forth prompted by Ryou's question.

"Well, he's denying any memory loss. He says he knows who he is," Marik translates. "I guess he just doesn't have one."

He doesn't have a name? That's sad... Actually, Ryou doesn't recall that the spirit ever had a name, either. Not besides Ryou's own, that is.

The stranger approaches a bit but still keeps a wide distance between himself and Ryou. He keeps talking to Marik, seemingly asking him questions.

"I don't-- this would be easier in person, he's asking me about things I can't see. I'll be right back, I'm just going to schedule that flight."

He says one last thing to the stranger and promptly hangs up. He tries to respond to Marik, but walks away when he's met with silence. Ryou follows him into the kitchen, only just then realizing that he's probably hungry.

"Oh, I'll make us something!"

He gets startled again when Ryou rushes by him, pulling his arm up and away from his side to avoid contact.

The spirit had loved meat of all kinds and anything that came with sauce. The similarities between this man and the spirit are probably few, but Ryou decides to follow his instinct. Meat and sauce, meat and sauce... The first thing that comes to mind with the ingredients Ryou has available is beef teriyaki, which sounds good to him. He'll make a stir-fry-- that way there's certain to be at least _something_ the stranger likes in it. He'll try to determine his palette based on what he does or doesn't eat of the stir-fry.

It's thanks to the spirit that Ryou even has steak in his house. He never used to buy it, but even if he tried to abstain at the store, the spirit would take over to place it in the cart, so Ryou simply got into the habit of picking it up. He was kind of funny, in hindsight; always trying to be menacing but still clearly young at heart.

The stranger watches Ryou cook with rapt fascination. Ryou has to bat his hand away from the rice cooker and hopes he won't have to deter him from the hot stove as well. Ryou notices that the stranger flinches a little less now, seeing as he doesn't freak out when Ryou gently guides him by the shoulders to sit at the table. His eyes stay trained on the heaping helping on the plate Ryou prepared for him until it's in front of him. Ryou offers his own thanks for the food, expecting the stranger to already be digging in by the time he opens his eyes, but he's just staring down at the food.

"Go ahead, you can eat!" Ryou offers futilely. Even if the stranger were Japanese, there would probably still be a 3,000 year language barrier...

Ryou hopes starting without him will encourage him to eat. He picks up a green bean with a strip of meat first, and then a generous portion of rice that's been drenched in sauce.

The stranger picks up the chopsticks Ryou provided for him and figures them out well enough. He doesn't avoid a single thing on his plate, which puts a smile on Ryou's face.

Before Ryou is done eating, Marik calls him back to tell him he should be arriving in two days, in the afternoon. Ryou sets the phone in the middle of the table and lets Marik talk to his guest. The more he talks to Marik, the more he starts looking a little downtrodden, lazily resting his cheek in one hand and tracing the remnants of sauce on his plate with a chopstick as he reluctantly answers questions.

Ryou finishes eating and collects the plates and utensils so he can start cleaning, leaving his guest alone with his phone. He worries a little, what with the touch screen and all. He could easily pick it up and start accidentally deleting things, but he seems more interested in just laying his head and arms on the table than grabbing anything.

Ryou is halfway through cleaning when his guest comes in to watch.

"Oh, did Marik hang up already?" Ryou wonders aloud, stopping the water and drying his hands to go check. As soon as the running water stops, though, he hears Marik's voice.

"I'm-- I'm sorry Marik, he walked away," Ryou says, interrupting him. "What were you saying?"

"Ugh, I figured. He seems like he's getting fed up."

Fed up with what? Ryou looks over at his guest, who stands beside the couch, staring down at it. He glances at Ryou before lying down on it and facing away.

"Oh, he asked me to thank you, by the way," Marik says, getting Ryou's attention back.

"It's not a problem... Um, I think he's just tired. He was sleeping when I found him, after all."

"Well, let me know if you need my help again when he wakes up," Marik offers. Ryou takes him off speaker and accepts before asking how life has been going for him. They end up having a longer conversation than anticipated, and Ryou is more than ready for bed by the time they're done.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryou hasn't been calling Marik as much as he'd anticipated. He guesses his house guest must be quick to catch on. Marik will be able to see for himself in another hour or so.

Last time he went to Japan, he had Rishid accompanying him overseas, and then both him and Ishizu went back with him. Flying on his own was a little intimidating, but it's almost over. Not that he won't have to do it again at some point to go home. At least the scenery out of the window is stunning, even when it's just clouds.

Marik has a fascination with clouds. Not enough to study them extensively-- he'd wondered what they were made of, but didn't research past that. He just thinks they're neat and likes to watch them move in the sky.

Soon, his vision isn't filled with quite so many clouds, as the plane lowers to see buildings and streets so small they could belong to one of Ryou's boards. Marik's heart pangs, missing the spirit, and he doesn't know how he's going to face Ryou without his feelings getting in the way. They're completely different people, but Bakura had been occupying Ryou's body. It's still the same face that he fell foolishly in love with.

Marik gets a ride from the airport, but it isn't Ryou. He wonders if meeting him there might be better, might mitigate the damage. He's used to the spirit answering the door to Ryou's apartment to promptly drag him inside with a kiss. He knows it'll hurt to be reminded that that can never happen again. Marik has to shake the thoughts from his head, else he'd never be able to ascend the stairs to Ryou's home with them weighing him down.

He's just visiting a friend who needs his help with translating. It's that simple. He'll knock on the door and his stupid pupils will dilate when he sees the face that answers, and his heart will stop beating as he waits to see which personality will speak, except there's only one option now.

When he knocks, though, nobody answers. He tries again, wondering if Ryou might be outside at the moment. Still nothing. He calls him, expecting Ryou to pick up right away to say he's on his way home, but it goes to his voicemail instead. Marik's heart rate picks up and he knocks again, a little more frantic.

"Go away," a muffled voice tells him, but not in Japanese.

"Open the door," Marik commands in the same language. "Where is Ryou?"

He hopes to every god that Ryou's house guest didn't turn out to be a menace.

"Who wants to know? You're not coming in without his permission."

Marik heaves a sigh of relief-- hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath until then.

"Just go and get him for me. Tell him-- shit, you can't. Just..." Marik pauses to think and hears running from inside.

The door unlocks and swings right open, and Marik shuts down at the sight of Ryou in just his pants with a towel on his head.

"I'm so sorry, I lost track of the time!" Ryou apologizes as he's trying to rub the water out of his hair. "Please come in!"

Marik takes a second to obey, his eyes glued to Ryou's back. At least this is an unconventional meeting, not at all reminiscent of the type of welcome the spirit would give him.

Gods, he has to stop thinking about him. Marik tears his eyes away from Ryou to appraise his guest, and he gasps at what he sees. Maybe it's just because Ryou has dressed this man in the spirit's favorite clothes that his heart leaps forward, as if trying to drag Marik over to him. His arms are crossed and he's staring suspiciously at Marik, even though they speak the same language. Reasonably, he should be more comfortable with Marik than Ryou; although the latter has evidently been providing food and shelter for him.

"Quit glaring at me," Marik says once he's gotten ahold of himself. "The two of us have been talking since you arrived."

"Untrue."

"It is true! I was speaking through Ryou's device, remember? Doesn't my voice sound familiar?"

He seems to contemplate this for a short moment, and the smirk that takes up his face is so familiar that it stuns Marik.

"My, you're much prettier in this form," he says. Marik has no rebuttal.

Ryou comes out fully dressed and dry enough, brushing his hair as he starts catching Marik up.

"I don't think he's ready to try using a phone or anything yet, but he's pretty much been acclimating just fine. I can't really get a feel for what kind of food he likes, because either he's not picky or I'm a good guesser."

"No hints as to how he got here, though..?"

Ryou's face-- the _spirit's_ face, at one time-- gets a little sad.

"No, nothing yet. I don't know how I'm supposed to be gathering information, though! He just... showed up."

Marik turns to find the man in question unexpectedly close to him. He suppresses a slight gasp and stands his ground. It's not too difficult, considering Marik is actually taller than him.

"Update me. Who is the current king?" he asks without any segue.

"There isn't one," Marik answers. The man gives him a wide-eyed grin.

"Take me to Egypt, I'll take over."

"No, there is no king because the monarchy was abolished. There's nothing to "take over"."

His eyes stay wide, but his smile falls. He brings a hand up to his chin, inadvertently covering his mouth.

"Gone..? There's no more ruler?"

"I guess this is a lot to take in," Marik figures. "Trust me, we manage just fine without one."

Surprisingly, he nods.

"That's good," he says.

Ryou chimes in to ask what they're discussing.

"Nothing, just... modern society," Marik answers.

Marik stares openly at the nameless stranger, who is now too lost in thought to pay Marik any mind. On a whim, he asks Ryou for a pen and paper, which he immediately fetches for him.

On the paper, Marik draws the Millennium Ring. He taps the stranger's shoulder and shows it to him, not quite expecting the shocked, almost hurt gasp he takes.

"You recognize it, don't you?" Marik states.

"Why do you?" the man shoots back, suddenly angry.

"Within this Ring existed a spirit from about three thousand years ago. It was corrupted, but still a person. It had a grudge against the then-king of Egypt, and no name of its own. It labeled itself a thief, and wanted to collect the Millennium Items," Marik explains, listing off everything relevant that he knew about the spirit. "Ryou here was the owner of the Ring, and thus the spirit shared his body. It took his surname-- we called it Bakura."

The man seems to have trouble taking it all in, and then he huffs and shakes his head with a sardonic smile.

"It sounds like you should be calling _me_ that, then," he says, all but confirming Marik's suspicion.

"You're the spirit of the Ring, aren't you?"

"I am a thief, I hate the king, and I do appear to be from the past. The Ring was mine. They should have _all_ been mine."

Marik turns and relays the gist of the conversation to Ryou.

"That's funny... I kind of thought he reminded me of the spirit," Ryou admits. "But there's one way to know for sure!"

"There is?" Marik asks incredulously.

"Yes, we can check pretty easily, I think! First, tell him a joke."

Marik blanches at him.

"I'm serious!" Ryou says. "That or... I don't know, maybe he's ticklish?"

It's then that Marik catches on. Of course; the spirit had a very distinct laugh. Though, how is he supposed to get him to laugh? How did he ever get the spirit to laugh? Typically, he did it to be smug, like when he was taunting someone or...

"You called me pretty earlier," Marik points out.

"Take offense?" "Bakura" teases with a smirk.

"What if I'd like to return the compliment?"

When he laughs, it is _exactly_ like hearing the spirit. Marik's heart is convinced it's him, and he even waits with bated breath for Bakura to stop pretending and pull him in for a kiss already. He would be thrilled to have his own body.

But he doesn't. He continues being a different man, even if the spirit did stem from him.

"It is him! That wheeze before he laughs is consistent!" Ryou points out. With a smile, he runs to Bakura's side.

"I must be an idiot to be saying this, but I missed you!" he says, even though Bakura can't understand him. He smiles at Ryou, tilting his head.

Marik missed him too... He's not the same, but how different is he, really? Is it not simply as if the spirit forgot the events of the modern world and the language he learned in it? Wait, could that be exactly what happened..?

"Do you want to return to Egypt?" Marik asks him.

"No," Bakura answers too quickly. "Never."

Marik felt the same way, at first. Mostly, he just didn't want to have to go back underground. Now that his duty as a tombkeeper has been fulfilled, though, he's free to live on the surface, and has learned not to scorn his country that never deserved it in the first place.

He can't know why Bakura refuses to go back, though. He tried asking questions about his past over the phone, but Bakura was stubbornly vague and would lead Marik around in circles. If he doesn't want to talk about it, there's nothing Marik can do.

"If you're going to be staying here with Ryou, you'll need his permission," Marik tells him. Bakura brings his crossed arms closer to his body, looking down.

"Then ask him," he practically mumbles.

"... It seems like he wants to stay here," Marik informs Ryou, who brightens up at the news.

"Oh, good! Before he showed up, I was getting lonely. Besides, this is actually a better arrangement than when we shared a body! This way I can actually taste the food I eat!"

Ryou seems chipper and optimistic. Marik, meanwhile, has to fight himself. There's this persistent, hopeful little light in his chest telling him that this Bakura is the same as the spirit, and it begs him to go to him. Even if they're technically the same, though, they don't have the same experiences. Marik had chemistry with the spirit, and the spirit had an excuse to obsess over him. Bakura has already flirted with Marik once, but they're literal strangers. He's probably just... like that.

He has no reason to like Marik.

"In the meantime, how long are you staying?" Ryou asks. Marik takes his time returning to reality.

"Um... as long as you need me, I guess. I don't have a return flight yet."

Ryou laughs softly.

"Well, I don't know that I'll ever _not_ need you..."

Then he seems to remember something and runs off, returning with a folded up futon.

"I've tried to give him this, but he always just ends up laying on the couch. You can use it, if you'd like!"

It dawns on Marik that he'll be sleeping in the same room as Bakura. That would be nothing new, were he still the spirit, but...

"I appreciate it, thank you," Marik accepts with a forced smile.

This visit is even more painful than he'd imagined, so far.

The three of them spend the afternoon together with the television on in the background, Bakura's attention fixed on it completely. Marik finds Ryou easy to talk to, and Ryou is glad for the company. Bakura, for the most part, seems to like just lounging on the couch. Despite not understanding the conversations Marik and Ryou have, he'll occasionally pay attention, his eyes scarcely leaving Marik.

"It's weird, he's so... well, maybe it's because he's not as freaked out anymore," Ryou backtracks before he's even gotten his point out.

"So what?" Marik asks.

"On that first day, he'd stay as far away from me as possible, really. He got startled whenever I passed by too closely or walked towards him. But..."

Marik immediately ascertains Ryou's point when he feels Bakura rest his chin on his shoulder.

"I guess he likes being close to you," Ryou says.

_Like the spirit_. It goes unspoken, but Marik knows he's thinking it.

"What is your problem?" Marik directs at Bakura, but he doesn't shrug him off.

"What's yours?" Bakura quips back with his familiar grin.

"I asked you first."

"I asked you second. H-heheh."

Marik sees he still has the same terrible sense of humor. They start bickering just like they used to, with Marik only pausing to acknowledge Ryou saying that he's ordering takeout for dinner.

"I like this," Bakura randomly claims, touching Marik's sleeveless jacket. His hand ends up resting against Marik's chest, so close to his heart.

"The jacket?" Marik asks unintentionally, knowing it's a stupid question. He inwardly sighs and braces for whatever crude comeback Bakura has in store for him.

"All of it," he says instead.

"... Well, I'm not giving you my outfit. Sorry."

"Not the clothes. Although this part is nice," he says again, tugging at the fabric of the jacket. "I like this place."

"Okay, I'll be sure to let Ryou know," Marik states flatly.

"Will you stay here too?"

He asks it so conversationally, like it's no big deal. Marik takes Bakura's hand, removing it from his jacket.

"No, Bakura. I don't live in this country."

Apparently disinterested now, Bakura swats Marik's hand off of his and returns to the television, despite the fact that he can't understand what the characters are saying. Marik remembers being fascinated by the flashing light at first too, wondrous at how the images could possibly be displayed like that. Seeing the spirit he knew in such an innocent state is almost unsettling.

When the takeout arrives, conversation picks up again between Ryou and Marik. Bakura seems to disappear somewhere but returns to set the empty containers on the counter.

"Wait, where has he gone?" Ryou asks later, peeking out from his room. "The house is empty..."

Marik decides to check outside for him and finds him leaning against the balcony just outside Ryou's apartment. It's dark out now, which sets Marik slightly on edge, but having company and not being stuck inside helps.

"There are less stars in this country..." Bakura notes.

"It's not the country, it's the era," Marik corrects him.

"The stars are dying..?"

Not quite, but Marik isn't about to attempt to explain air pollution to a man from the distant past. Bakura gives up on watching the sky, letting his eyes land on Marik instead. The spirit never used to stare so openly-- he was too damn proud. There was a time where Marik did manage to catch him staring, but the spirit had denied it and started another one of their petty tiffs.

There he goes thinking about the spirit again. Marik didn't realize how obsessed he was until he had to spend an entire day consciously trying to force the entity out of his mind and failing miserably. This whole situation would be so much easier if he could just think of this Bakura as the stranger he is.

Bakura reaches out for Marik's face all of a sudden, and he tenses in anticipation, his muscle memory almost making him lean in. Bakura doesn't, so Marik doesn't. He's just playing with one of Marik's earrings. Frustrated, Marik pushes his arm away and walks back inside.

When they're getting ready for bed, Ryou decides to keep the television on. Marik is silently thankful for it, but pretends like it's for Bakura. Bakura, meanwhile, is already stretching out on the couch, one arm falling to hang carelessly over the side. His eyes are barely open.

The minute Ryou's bedroom door closes, Bakura moves. He silently slides off the couch and lies down next to Marik's futon. He doesn't look at him, just stares at the ceiling.

"Will you talk to me?" Marik finally asks, fed up.

"About?"

"This. What you're doing."

"In my time, we did this thing called "sleeping"."

"Ha ha," Marik sarcastically laughs.

"Good. Now do it for real," Bakura says with a smirk.

Marik sits up.

"Why flirt with me?" he asks outright. "Why do you keep touching me randomly?"

Bakura frowns slightly.

"Do you have any memory of me whatsoever?" Marik continues. "Do you remember what we... what _I_ had with the spirit?"

He shakes his head.

"No, but I can see why he wanted you."

He can't possibly mean that. Marik met the spirit only because he had the Millennium Rod, the spirit only talked to him because of that. He wouldn't have had the slightest interest in him if their relationship didn't start with the promise of the Rod. The spirit stuck around even after for some reason, claiming haughtily that since Marik never fulfilled his end of the deal, he couldn't get rid of him so easily.

This Bakura has no reason to be interested. So then, why is he?

Marik lays back down just as Bakura sits up, and then he finds a heavy weight on top of him and fluffy silver hair hanging down over his face.

"I'm a thief," Bakura states. "I see something pretty, something valuable, something that sparkles in the light, and I instinctively move to take it."

"Someth--"

Marik almost chokes on his own breath when Bakura leans down. He only touches their noses together. Unable to resist any longer, Marik grabs Bakura by the damned spirit's favorite shirt and kisses him. For all his talk, Bakura seems surprised by it.

"Let's start over," Marik whispers, despite how desperately he wants to continue where he and the spirit left off.

Rather than answer, Bakura kisses him back.


End file.
